Transparent
by Betterinblue
Summary: What happens when Taylor finds a book filled with weird writings?


I could wait for tomorrow. I could certainly wait for tomorrow.

What was I going to wear anyways? I couldn't sport my regular clothes. I had to wear something worthy of the first day of high school. I needed something really special that would make people turn and look. Plus, auburn hair was hard to complement.

I was freaking out! Why? Well, aren't the words "first day" a good enough explanation? And this wasn't just my first day, this was my first day of high school, and I had to make an impression.

Picking out something to wear was not usually hard, but I'd already tried on about 20 outfits _and_ searched my closet more than 10 times. This had to stop.

I sat down on one of the chairs in my room, and tried desperately to clear my brain. I had dreaded this day for a long time. My friend, Melody was going to be at this new school, but that was not enough to ease my nerves.

I imagined myself in the middle of the ocean and the waves were agitated and trying to crash down on me. Something was stopping the waves, I didn't know what, but the waves suddenly crashed down on me.

In my peripheral vision, I saw something move. I pulled myself out of my day-mare, and floated back to present-day.

Lying on the floor was one of my favorite books. I picked it up, opened it, and started leafing through it.

On almost every page, tiny scrawl littered the side. On one specific page though, the writing filled up the whole page, it even covered the black pre-printed words. It said:

She will not see me.

She will not know I'm here.

She does not know who I am.

I will be invisible.

These sentences were repeated until they hit the bottom of the page.

I did not remember writing these words.

I flipped through the book eagerly, finding that whoever had written these words had treated my book like a journal and dated each entry. There was one that caught my attention.

JULY 17

She looked especially beautiful tonight. Her black dress was stunning on her. Wished, once again, that I could talk to her.

Still not been seen; will stay that way.

Can't find strength to leave.

I was curious. I strolled over to my closet and took out my one and only black dress. I put the dress up to my body and walked to the closest mirror. I looked nice in my black dress, but certainly not stunning, as this girl that was described looked.

I dropped the book on my bed and marched downstairs to ask my mom about an outfit for tomorrow. My dad would certainly not have any fashion advice to give.

My mom might not have any advice either; most of what she said was from some book she had read recently. She always sounded like a talking book. Hopefully, she had read a Novel about fashion lately. I jumped the last few stairs, surprised at my surge of energy.

"Hey mom. Do you have any fashion ideas for me?" I asked hesitantly, having no idea what would come out of her mouth next.

"Honey, just be yourself! You'll find an outfit." I could see that was all she was going to tell me, I'd just have to settle for that much.

I faked a smile, "Thanks mom." But, the pit in my stomach did not disappear.

She nodded and kept reading her magazine. I sneaked a peek at what she was reading and saw some ad about ghost hunting.

Having problems with ghosts?

We specialize!

Call: (253) 635-9087

The kind of junk my mom read. Wow. This was embarrassing.

What a horrible ending to a day. Not even my mom could offer a good style tip.

I staggered up the stairs in defeat. I was going to be the only one at South Side High school that didn't have a cute outfit. Nobody would want to be my friend.

Something my mom had said once, came into my head. "Clothes don't make the person." Well, cute clothes certainly helped!

As I entered my room, I found an outfit laid out on my bed. The thought of how the outfit materialized on my bed or who positioned it on the bed, did not even cross the threshold of my mind. All I could think of was how grateful I was that an outfit did appear.

A cute black top with a mini skirt and some leggings was what I would usually wear. There was even an off-white knit cap that I had never seen before. I came to the conclusion that God was feeling generous and sent it down for me. I didn't even consider how silly it sounded.

Beside my outfit, was the book again, but this time the spine was facing upward. I examined it and found a single dog-eared page near the back of the novel. I opened to the page marked and read carefully.

September 28th

To: Taylor

This outfit will make your eyes sparkle. Don't look for me. You don't want to find me. Really.

I finally understood. I understood that the writings were about me, something that had slid by my mind before. Suddenly, things made sense to me. So whoever this person was, they were following me and writing personal notes too? This only got more and more interesting. I had a feeling this was not the last note I would get tonight, so I responded.

"Thank you." I whispered cautiously.

I didn't know why I didn't ignore the note, like I usually would have. Saying something just felt… right.

_"Come on Taylor! You're talking to air! What's wrong with you?" _A little voice yelled. I tried to block the voice out, but it kept on talking. I needed therapy…big time.

I picked up the book, my hands gripping the binding in an unbreakable hold. I felt some kind of connection with the book, and I was not letting go. Somehow, the book was not just a book anymore. It was more.

Writing and trying to keep my hand steady was a hard task, but I managed.

September 28th

To:?????

Who are you? And why are you writing over the words in one of my favorite books? 

It was one of my favorite books, which was now ruined. The messy scrawl was eating away at the words inside. It didn't bother me as much as I said it did though.

Anger lashed out inside me so suddenly, that I was stunned for a moment. I was furious at myself. How could I start talking to somebody (that wasn't even there) and still think myself sane?

I walked out of my small room and leaned on the wall. I would let this person answer, whoever they were, and then go back to my normal life. Life would be normal after this event. It had to be. Tomorrow was my first day of high-school and I would not go there with weird thoughts circling my head. Tomorrow was VERY important.

After about 3 minutes, I stumbled back into my bedroom, sat down on my cushy bed, and opened up my book to the dog-eared page again.

September 28th

To: Taylor

Sorry… didn't know it was your favorite book. Oops. Forgive me.

The person still didn't answer my most important question.

Who were they? Clearly it had to be a man. If it was a girl, I did have a huge reason to be scared.

They were in my room right now. Shouldn't I be running and screaming? Instead, I felt calm and I somehow didn't mind that some guy was in my room writing notes to me and screwing up my favorite book. This night only got more and more strange as it progressed.

I wonder what my mom would tell me. Something about not talking to invisible people? I remember when I used to have invisible friends in the first grade. My "best" invisible friend was named Sally and we went everywhere together. My parents found it quite comedic. They always laughed, but at the same time, not to upset me, would play along. If Sally wanted to eat with us, they would include an extra chair at the table. If I insisted that Sally wanted the tofu on my plate, they would let me get away with not eating it.

Was this person another invisible friend? It was certainly too old to have invisible friends. My parents would think me funny in the head if they found me talking to thin air at this age. But, I would not tell anyone else. I might tell Melody, but only when it was time.

This person would have to show themself. I wasn't checking underneath my bed. I was a chicken at heart.

"Who are you? What's your name? I am totally not looking beneath the bed!" I yelled a little too loud. I hoped both my parents had not heard one single word. I didn't know how I would explain. I didn't want to be shipped to some nuthouse in the middle of the woods. Wasn't I too young for that?

I heard a chuckle come from the corner of my room. It sounded young, boyish, entertained.

"Show yourself. Now!" I whispered the first part, but the "now" had to be loud to be taken seriously.

The book I was holding suddenly flew into the air and one of my pens was pulled out of one of my drawers. The pen was writing by itself in the book. Abruptly, the book was back in my lap, open to the right page. Only three words were written on the page.

Are you sure?

All the fear I should have been feeling rushed into my body, in one sudden swish. My senses were suddenly gone, I couldn't see. I stumbled back and hit my head on my dresser. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was arms catching me before I hit the floor.


End file.
